


Love in All the Same Old Places

by themilitarymonk



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Idiots in Love, M/M, Movie: IT Chapter Two (2019), Mutual Pining, Pining, Slow Dancing, Songfic, Use Your Words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23511355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themilitarymonk/pseuds/themilitarymonk
Summary: Eddie stared at him. “You’re not serious?”Richie blinked innocently at him. “I am. I’ve never been so serious about anything in my life.”“You want me to dance with you?”Richie and Eddie share a moment the night before the fight with Pennywise.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Myra Kaspbrak, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47





	Love in All the Same Old Places

**Author's Note:**

  * For [squilf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/squilf/gifts).



> This is based on an idea that I sent to Caliceal a few months ago, that I decided to write myself.
> 
> Write the fic you want to see in the world...
> 
> The idea came from listening to the song Tennessee Whiskey, by Chris Stapleton, that I have heard many times, but since getting into the IT fandom, and Reddie specifically, this is what I imagined.
> 
> It's also a little inspired by the dance scene between Harry and Hermione in Deathly Hallows Pt 1, and is very self-indulgent.
> 
> Thanks so much to Squilf for being my beta - have this as a gift, my love.
> 
> Also a lot of thanks to Sonadorabonita, and Haploteuthis for listening to my fandom rants, and also thanks to TheAlchemistsDaughter for having to put up with me on Tumblr.
> 
> You guys are my true heroes.

Eddie hated this god-forsaken town.

He hated that he had to come back here because of a stupid oath. He hated the absolute fear that had settled into his stomach the moment he stepped foot back in Derry, hell, since his phone call with Mike a few days ago.

He hated that he had to leave his comfortable, expensive apartment, in a thriving city filled with people just like him, to come back to this shithole filled with small-town people and even smaller minds.

And he hated more than anything that his wife was giving him shit for it.

“I can’t believe you went to a Chinese restaurant, Eddie. What about all your food allergies?”

Eddie sighed at how ridiculous that sounded.

“I checked with the waitress when I got there, Myra. Everything was fine.”

Well, except for the fortune cookies trying to kill them, but Eddie wasn’t going to tell her that. Not that she would believe him, anyway.

“Well, what if you have an asthma attack? What are you going to do if you need to go to the ER and I’m not there to take care of you?”

Eddie was silent as he tried to think of a way to reason with her. It was so hard to when she was like this.

“I just don’t want something to go wrong and for you to be there on your own. What if something happens?”

“Nothing will happen!” Eddie wondered if he was trying to convince himself on that one. “And I’m not on my own, Myra. I have my friends here.”

“Friends that you haven’t even seen in twenty years!” her voice was shrill now. “Are you sure they’re your friends, Eddie? Because it’s the first I’ve heard of them.”

Eddie closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. How could he possibly explain to his wife about the murderous nightmare clown that tried to kill them all when they were thirteen, and then made them lose their memory of that experience and the people they shared it with?

These were his best friends in the whole world. And he had forgotten them.

Now that they were all back, Eddie didn’t know how he could have possibly survived the past twenty years without them.

Somehow Eddie didn’t think Myra would understand all of that. He knew how sensitive she was about his well being, physical and mental, and if there was anything that he didn’t need right now, it was being carted off to a mad house because she thought he was having a psychotic break.

Actually, maybe he was. It would explain a lot.

“Myra, I will be fine.” he said, finally. “It’s only for a few days, and I will be back home in New York before you know it.”

“You still could have told me you were going.”

There it was. The real reason she was calling. She was still angry at him for leaving suddenly, without warning, to come back to a small town at the end of the world for a reunion between childhood friends.

“I know your friend passed away, but I could still have come with you, and helped you through it all.”

It was a terrible white lie, and Eddie felt like a terrible person using it as his excuse at the start of the call. The news about Stan had been devastating. But there was no alternative, not really.

“There wasn’t time, Myra! It all just happened so fast, and I didn’t have time to explain anything.”

He had to end this call now. He was getting tired of arguing with her.

“Look, I have to go, I’m really tired and I really need to just crash, ok? I’ll speak to you tomorrow.”

He hoped it would be enough to appease her. But he wasn’t going to give her the chance to argue, either way.

There was an undeniable “You didn’t say _I lo_ –” as he hung up the phone.

He shoved his phone into his pocket before storming back through the front door, accidentally slamming it shut a little too hard.

He closed his eyes and gave a great sigh, bone tired.

“Trouble in paradise?”

Eddie looked up, but he knew where that snark had come from. He knew Richie’s voice anywhere.

Sure enough, there he sat at the lounge bar, with a drink in his hand and a shit-eating grin on his face. Eddie must have been on his call with Myra for a while – Richie hadn’t been there when he passed through earlier.

“Fuck off, asshole.” Eddie quipped back, with no real heat behind it.

Richie laughed regardless. “I'll take that as a _yes_.”

“What are you still doing up, anyway?” Eddie said.

Richie looked thoughtful for a moment, looking at his glass. “Celebrating my mortality.”

Eddie huffed.

“Great. Well I hope you don’t mind if I join you on that.”

It wasn’t really a question, and he sat down at the nearest stool, a few meters apart from Richie.

“By all means.” Richie said, reaching over the bar to grab another glass, before brandishing a whiskey bottle from out of nowhere, and sliding them both down the bar to Eddie.

Eddie caught them with ease but tutted anyway. Richie could have showered him in glass and alcohol.

They drank in a comfortable silence for a while, music playing softly over the Townhouse’s speaker system.

“So, Eds. You going to tell me what that little outburst was about?”

Eddie looked up at him from across the bar. Here we go.

“Things not going so well in casa de Kaspbrak?”

“If you make any more jokes about my wife, I swear to God –”

“Hey!” Richie said, holding up his hands. “I’m serious, man. It seemed pretty intense, even for an angry little gremlin like you. I just wondered if you wanted to talk about it.”

Eddie stared at him, feeling ashamed, for more than one reason.

“Rich, no offence, but I really don’t want to talk about my marriage with you.”

“Full offence taken, but fine. Then you can catch me up on everything else from the past twenty years.”

Eddie laughed. “That could take a while.”

Richie shrugged. “You got anything better to do?”

“Sleep?”

“Well, Eds, there’s a very high chance that we may die tomorrow. You can get your beauty sleep then.”

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Don’t call me Eds.” he said, but then he talked to Richie about all the years of their lives that they had missed out on. Not by choice, of course. They both knew they would have been there together if they could.

They just... forgot.

“God, I hate that we’re back here.” Eddie said eventually, running his hands over his face.

Richie gave a small shrug. “It ain’t all bad.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows at him. “Richie, this town was crueller to you than most. How can you stand being here?”

“Shut up, asshole. I just mean, that whatever the reason we’re back, at least we’re all back together.”

Eddie understood. If he were going to go to hell and back, he knew he could get through it with all of his friends by his side.

Well, _almost_ all of them.

“Except for Stan.”

Richie nodded solemnly and turned back to his drink. “Except for Stan.”

A silent melancholy had fallen over them once more. Eddie swallowed his sadness and his guilt once more and closed his eyes briefly. He felt the slight buzz of the whiskey, and listened to the country song that was currently playing.

“ _And brought me back from being too far gone.”_

It only took a few moments before Eddie was compulsively checking his phone again. Over an hour had passed since his call with Myra, and she had already sent him ten messages. Part of him knew that that wasn’t normal, but it was overshadowed by the other part of him screaming that he needed to respond before he made it worse for himself.

“Alright, enough of this.”

Eddie looked up from his phone. “Enough of what?”

“This...” Richie gestured between them as he stood up from his bar stool, “Depressing shit. If this is the last night we get to spend together, before we go charging head first into an obviously suicidal fight with a demonic killer clown, we will not be spending it moping around.”

“Um...ok? I’m all ears, Trashmouth. What else did you have in mind?”

Eddie wasn’t going to speculate on what Richie could possibly be thinking. His mind would surely only end up in the gutter.

“What we’re going to do, Eddie Spaghetti, is we’re going to down our drinks, you are going to get the fuck up, and you are going to dance with me.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Eddie stared at him. “You’re not serious?”

Richie blinked innocently at him. “I am. I’ve never been so serious about anything in my life.”

“You want me to dance with you?”

He had to be joking.

“What? We did it all the time as kids.”

It was true; Richie would drag Eddie to dance with him any chance he got. Eddie would bitch and complain the entire time... but he could easily have said no.

“We’re not kids anymore, Rich.”

“Then be a fucking man, and get off your cute little butt, and come and dance with me.”

Richie held out his hand.

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” Eddie said, trying not to grin.

“Nope.” Richie said, with an obnoxious pop and a smile, knowing that he’d already won.

Eddie rolled his eyes dramatically before getting up from his seat and taking Richie’s hand.

“You’re such a dork.”

Richie just laughed at him.

“I’m fucking leading.”

“Obviously.” Richie winked at him, earning him a shove in return.

But there wasn’t much need for leading when Richie pulled him into the dance. It couldn’t really be described as a dance, but rather a series of extremely uncoordinated movements, and probably the worst both of them had ever made.

“ _'Cause there's nothing like your love to get me high.”_

Eddie was hesitant at first, eyeing Richie with false contempt, but Richie’s damned enthusiasm was infectious, and he decided to give in and just go with it.

They had no rhythm, no technique, and certainly no grace. But it didn’t matter, because both of them were grinning like idiots.

“ _You're as sweet as strawberry wine.”_

“Don't you fucking dare!” Eddie warned, as Richie grinned mischievously.

“Whatever do you mean, Eds?”

“You know what I mean, asshole. I know you far too fucking well.”

Richie laughed, throwing his head back in mirth. “Oh come on, Spaghetti, we both know you’re much sweeter than that.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, trying not to smile. “Oh my God, you’re so lame.”

Richie just continued to laugh at him.

They took turns spinning, laughing when they crashed into each other. Richie insisted on dipping Eddie, despite his protests. In retaliation, Eddie decided to do the same to Richie, who couldn’t hide that he was impressed.

“You’re just so fucking small, Eds.”

“I'm five foot nine, asshole, and don’t call me that.”

“You love it.” Richie said, pinching his cheek.

Eddie slapped him away.

“God, you haven’t fucking changed.”

Richie smiled at him.

“Yeah. Neither have you.”

Eddie felt the heat rise in his cheeks at that. He had no idea why.

Maybe it was how close they were standing now, almost like an embrace. Richie’s hands felt hot where they were settled on his waist.

It felt… good.

It was like there was nothing else except him and Richie, the way they always had been. Always gravitating towards each other, no matter what. Until life had torn them apart.

Eddie hadn’t realised how much he’d missed this; how much he’d missed Richie.

Even though he certainly could think of better places to be than back in his shitty home town, preparing to fight a killer clown, if Eddie had one last night to live, well, he couldn’t really think of anyone else he would rather spend it with. With his arms wrapped around the broad shoulders of his childhood best friend.

The song was on the final chorus now. Eddie knew that this would end soon, and part of him ached with the realisation that he didn’t want it to.

He rested his chin on Richie’s shoulder. Richie's breath hitched momentarily, but he didn’t say anything, although Eddie could feel his fingers gripping his waist tightly.

Suddenly their proximity, the soft swell of the music... it all felt too much, but not enough at the same time. Eddie didn’t think it would ever feel enough.

As the last notes of the song played out and silence fell around them, Eddie lifted his head from Richie’s shoulder and looked up into his eyes, unsure of what to do next.

He lowered his hands from Richie’s shoulders, down to his chest. Richie only seemed to grip onto Eddie’s waist tighter. He looked breathless, pained, uncertain. Exactly how Eddie felt himself.

Eddie knew that this was dangerous territory. He was married. He knew that if someone were to walk in and catch them like this, it would look just as treacherous as it felt. Yet, here Eddie was, gazing up into his best friend’s eyes, wishing so badly for something that he hadn’t even known he wanted, something he’d never allowed himself to want.

“Eddie...” Richie whispered.

But before either of them could say or do anything else, the sound of Eddie’s ring tone blared through the room.

They blinked at each other.

Richie's eyes looked wild, and Eddie could swear he could see the pleading in them.

_Don't answer it._

Eddie didn’t want to answer it. He really didn’t.

But he knew he should. There were plenty of things he should be doing right now, and whatever _this_ was with Richie definitely wasn’t one of them.

No matter how much he wanted it.

Another song had started playing as they’d been staring at each other, something not as slow or melodious as the previous one, and Eddie felt himself begin to sober.

“I… I should probably get that.” he said, before either of them did something they wouldn’t be able to come back from.

Richie nodded, averting his gaze and letting his hands fall from Eddie’s waist. Eddie knew that whatever moment they’d shared between them had passed.

He reached in his pocket for his phone, already knowing who the call was from.

“Myra.”

Eddie knew he should pick it up. He knew he should speak to his wife, who was only calling to check if he was ok... despite him already telling her so just a few hours ago. His finger hovered hesitantly over the green button. But before he could press it, the call rang out. He sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his hair. While part of him knew he would pay for that later, a bigger part of him was relieved. He wasn’t sure if he could face talking to her right now. Not after…

Eddie looked back up at Richie, phone still in hand.

Richie was staring at him, and looking for all the world like he wanted to say something but was holding himself back.

“What?” Eddie asked. He’d meant it to be accusatory, teasing, giving Richie shit as usual to keep up the appearance of normality. But his body betrayed him and when he spoke, his words were soft.

Richie opened his mouth, and closed it again a few times. He looked around the room as though trying to find the right words.

Finally, he gave a little sigh and took a step back from him. “Night, Eds.”

Eddie felt the disappointment course through him, feeling like his whole body could sag to the floor with the weight of it.

Richie put his hands into his pockets and turned to make his way to the stairs.

“Goodnight, Rich.”

Richie turned back and smiled sadly at him over his shoulder, before heading back towards the stairs.

Once Eddie was alone, he sat back down on his bar stool, and slumped against the bar. He felt completely drained.

He dropped his head into his hands and sighed heavily, trying to ignore the memory of the intensity of Richie’s eyes, and the ghost of his hands on Eddie’s waist.

“Fuck.”


End file.
